


A State Of Exhaustion

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Comeplay, Dom/sub, Exhaustion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the Les Mis kink meme. Enjolras entirely fucked out after Bahorel and Feuilly are done with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A State Of Exhaustion

Feuilly watched the blond where he was sprawled out on the bed, drinking in the sight of him and committing it firmly to his memory. He was completely exhausted, his breathing slow and almost laboured, as if even the effort of breathing was now too much for him. 

Enjolras’ legs were spread, and one of his hands was curled in his own hair, playing absent mindedly with the tangled curls, his other rested in the mess of come across his stomach without care for the slick under his fingers. He was still covered in a sheen of his own sweat, and both his own come and Feuilly’s mingled on his stomach, where between his inner thighs Bahorel’s come had slicked him thoroughly, staining pretty skin with white.

Bahorel moved back into the room with a wash cloth, and he pulled Enjolras to sit up. Their leader was pliable like this, doll-like and easily manipulated, docile in a way he never was while they were fucking him. Enjolras’ eyes fluttered closed as Bahorel brought the warm, wet cloth over his stomach and then over his thighs, cleaning away the remnants of a night well spent.

Feuilly moved forwards and sat behind the younger man, holding him up so that Bahorel could dip down between his thighs and clean away the come from his buttocks and his cock. Enjolras let out a quiet cry, his eyes opening, but he couldn’t say anything.

He looked ready to sleep for a good ten hours or so, and Feuilly pressed an affectionate kiss to his forehead. “How does he look, Bahorel?” And he did not ask only to tease Enjolras, but also because he liked what they could do to Enjolras giving a few hours alone with him.

"He’s loose, open." Bahorel said in a light, contented tone, reaching out and playing over Enjolras’ entrance, teasing it and making him give a quiet groan. "His rim is red with it, Feuilly, as if we’ve been cruel to him. Have we been cruel to you, Enjolras?"

The blond let out a quiet sound when Bahorel tugged at the rim of it with his index finger, canting his hips up despite himself. “My come and yours is leaking out of him, Feuilly, as if we’ve used him thoroughly.” And he laughed. “But then, I suppose we have, haven’t we?”

Enjolras didn’t blush. He might have, if they’d done this at the beginning, talked over him as if he was merely a toy for them to play with, but now he only let out soft noises as he melted back against Feuilly’s chest. “Sleep.” He demanded, voice as petulant as ever despite the drowsy weight to it, and Bahorel chuckled, pressing a fond kiss to the innerpart of his thigh.

"How do you feel, Enjolras?" Feuilly asked, beginning to comb tangles from the younger man’s hair with deft fingers, and the blond let out a noise of frustration.

“ _Tired_. God, let me sleep,  _hush_ , I just want- wanna- want-” Enjolras’ tone was sharp as he tried to pull his head away from Feuilly’s hands. He was often irritable when he was sleepy, but Feuilly refused to let him have it; he put his thumb and forefinger at Enjolras’ left nippled and  _squeezed_ , pinching the sensitive skin there, and Enjolras yelped, jolting. 

"What was that?" Feuilly asked in a deliberate tone, and Enjolras shifted, mildly shamed for his rudeness.

"Sorry." He muttered. "Please let me sleep." Bahorel slid into bed, and Feuilly gently lowered Enjolras between them, so he was comfortably warm between the both of them. 

"Sweet dreams." Bahorel purred in Enjolras’ ear, and he rested a comfortable hand on the other’s thigh as Feuilly curled his arms around the other man. Enjolras went completely lax between them, humming as he buried his face against Feuilly’s shoulder.

"Will do." He mumbled, and then he was drifting into a heavy slumber.


End file.
